Blighted Love
by StayClose
Summary: The sequel to Blighted Loyalty, this story picks up a few hours later. It follows Hawke and Fenris as they make their way to the Warden outpost in Ansburg, and also follows Anders as he fights for the mage rebellion. Sebastian is hunting both parties with his band of mercenaries however, and will not stop until his old companions are dead.
1. Chapter 1

_Note: I'm still using Latin for most phrases Fenris speaks in his own language but messing around with spelling and picking the nicest sounding words, so I'm probably mucking up tense/possession etc. but it doesn't matter because he's not speaking Latin, yay!_

* * *

'Can we rest here for a moment?'

She immediately regretted asking when the tall, white-haired elf narrowed his eyes and looked at her with concern.

'Are you okay, Hawke?'

'What do you think?' Throwing herself down under a tree on the bank of the river, she pulled an apple out of the pack at her hip. 'Sorry, I'm just annoyed at myself. Thought I would be up for more than just a few hours' walk today.'

Fenris carefully sat down by her side, tilting the greatsword on his back, and he looked out over the river. It flowed through the middle of the valley, the green hills to the north growing into the dark rocky Vimmark mountains. They were sitting under the trailing yellow-green branches of a weeping willow, some of which were long enough to caress the slow-running water. Small birds were swooping to feast on the hovering insects that flitted just above the surface of the river.

A question had been playing on her mind most of the morning, but Hawke wasn't sure she wanted the answer yet. As the silence between them lengthened, she made up her mind.

'I need to ask, did you or Anders manage to kill Sebastian last night? I don't remember.'

'We never laid eyes on him, that _lucida nothus_ probably hid until the fighting was over,' he said.

Hawke coughed. 'That's what I thought but, I had to know for sure.' She took a deep breath. 'At least I'll get to personally murder that… what did you just call him?'

'Oh, a shiny bastard.'

Hawke managed to laugh. 'You've got to start teaching me to insult people in Tevene. It sounds much classier than my soldier's mouth.'

Fenris slid his eyes from the river to her. 'I forget that you were a soldier.'

'Most people do until I start talking. That always led to some amusing expressions at the Viscount's keep. It was a huge part of my life, I was months away from my ten year service ribbon when we got fucked at Ostagar.'

'Ten years? Then how old-'

'I had just turned fifteen when I enlisted. With some help from my father,' Hawke answered quickly. 'But that's not a story I want to tell today.'

'When you are ready, I would be interested to hear it,' he said. 'Can I ask what you did in the army?'

Hawke's eyes lit up. 'I was first lieutenant of 'the bloodless' - a small unit of skirmishers in the vanguard. There were sixty-two of us, mainly rogues but we had a handful of mages too. Our role was to hit first and hit fast, disorganise the enemy lines and spread panic where we could. We would strike the night before battle, appearing like shades in the other side's camp, and slaughter as many as we could before we were discovered. There's nothing more effective for tipping the balance than crippling the enemy's battalion of heavy horse or similar.' She paused as she threw her apple core into the river.

'That doesn't sound very sporting.'

She flashed him a wicked smile. 'It suited me down to the ground. However, that tactic doesn't work against creatures like darkspawn so for the battle of Ostagar we were just part of the main body of infantry.' Her face hardened. 'I should have complained more about that fucked up decision but my objections were dismissed out of hand. A few of the guys were dualists, like me, and you know how much I love a good fight, but the assassins, the shadows, and the mages… they were overwhelmed and torn apart. And I had to leave them to find Carver and pull him out of that shit.' She fell silent, wondering again if there were enough darkspawn in all of Thedas to pay back the debt of blood they owed her.

'We haven't talked like this much over the last few years, have we?' asked Fenris.

She pulled at a clump of grass. 'That was your choice. But I've never understood your reason for leaving me after the first time we… how do you say, 'fucked', in your language?' She flicked her eyes back to his face.

Fenris shifted. 'You know it meant more than that. And honestly, I can't say I really understand my reasons now either. At the time I was worried that I wanted to move too quickly for you. I had started to feel like I needed you.'

'Needing someone isn't a bad thing,' said Hawke.

'For a former slave, it's terrifying.'

'You should have said something to me. I thought you'd had your fun, and that was that. I practically threw myself at Anders to get back at you.'

'That was the reason he moved in with you?'

'It was the reason I slept with him,' she watched the elf wince. 'But not the reason I stayed with him. Anders told me he loved me that first night, and I thought, with life as short as it is, that I could grow to love him too. He was always there for me.'

'But at The Gallows, when I stood against you and yet you let me live?' asked Fenris.

'You have no idea how close I came to running you through for that.' She pushed Fenris onto his back, rolled on top of him and traced a hand down to his chest. 'My blade was pressed here, you were unconscious. All around us battle raged, men screamed, arrows soared across the burning sky. I was so angry at you for drawing your weapon against me, but what stayed my hand was the realisation that you were doing exactly what I would have done. Defending your principles to the death. I loved you for that, and the strength that took. Well, that, and I thought you were just too pretty to kill,' she said, and kissed his nose.

He stared up and she tried to read the expression on his face.

'_Futui_,' he said finally.

'What?'

'It means 'fucked', and that's what my spine will be if you don't get off. I am lying on rather a large sword here.'

'Hmm, me too,' she said against his neck. Then she spotted that the two-handed greatsword on his back was caught at an odd angle and she quickly rolled off the pained elf. 'Whoops. _Futui_, I'm going to remember that one.'

Fenris stood and pulled her to her feet. 'We should move on.'

xxx

'I think you and Carver would have got on well,' said Hawke.

'He sounds like a good man,' said Fenris.

Hawke's frowned. 'He was only a boy. I should have been able to protect him.'

She remembered the twins as children; scabbed knees, huge eyes, the constant bickering, the way they always managed to end up holding hands as they slept...

Fenris had been watching her. 'Perhaps,' he said.

'What?'

'Perhaps you could have stopped him from being killed. If you had been faster, or closer, maybe you could have prevented it from happening. But you can't change what did happen, you can only live with it.'

Hawke stopped. 'No one has ever said that. They always say something like 'oh, there was nothing you could do' or 'oh, you can't blame yourself'. But not you.'

'You're not a child, Hawke. I won't coddle you.'

'No, you never did. I always liked that about you. No bullshit.'

She smiled as they walked on in silence.

'Can you see that?' Fenris pointed to a group of buildings just visible ahead of them. 'There should be a farm and a flour mill where the river turns south, and a track that leads north through the mountains to join the road to Markham. Assuming Anders gave me the correct directions earlier.'

'Anders has been on the run most of his life, his directions are always right. He's like a great, magic homing pigeon.'

'We should stay out of sight, cut through those woods to reach the track,' he said, indicating the trees on their left.

'Or, we could go and see if we can sleep at their farm tonight. I'm not camping in the wilderness if I don't have to.'

'Sebastian probably has men watching all the stopping points around here. They would be on us in moments.'

'That's the plan,' said Hawke.

Fenris put out his arm and pulled her around to face him. 'That is not a good plan.'

She looked from his face to the hand on her arm and back again. When he released his grip she took a step forward. 'How many days was I held? I lost count.'

He looked away. 'Sixteen.'

'Wow, sixteen days of torture. Small wonder then that I need to kill someone. Fenris, if we hide from them tonight then every night will be spent jumping at shadows, wondering when they will find us. If instead, we send a message, if I can carve my name into every one of Sebastian's men that comes after us, then I think we will buy ourselves a little breathing space. Don't you agree?' She kept the tone of her voice light and calm. Inside she could hear herself screaming again and again that it was all his fault.

'I still don't think it's a good idea,' he said.

With a hard laugh she spread her hands. 'That never stopped me before.'

Hawke turned on her heel and headed towards the farm, not looking back to see if he followed.


	2. Chapter 2

Had he made the right decision?

Anders stepped back from the fireplace and cast a critical eye around the room. The cabin was used as a safe house for mages and their families, one of hundreds scattered around Thedas and maintained by members of The Mages' Collective. This one had probably saved their lives last night, hidden as it was in the deep valley and tall surrounding trees.

Should he have gone with them?

He had cleaned the small kitchen, remade the bed with clean sheets, and stacked a pile of logs ready in the fireplace for the next fugitive occupants.

When Hawke had first set her stubborn mind on joining the Wardens, Anders had begged and pleaded with her to reconsider. He still heard the whispers that scratched away in his mind, felt the taint that burned in his blood, and knew with cold certainty that he was already dead. The thought that she would condemn herself in the same way, or worse, die during the joining, tore his heart in half. Yet he knew he could never change her mind, as she had known she could never change his when they argued that his place should now be back with the Wardens and away from the war that had spilled from their actions in Kirkwall.

Sighing, he strode back into the kitchen and pushed several items into the worn leather pack that hung across his body. Before he left, he took one last look around the main room, grabbed the staff leaning against the doorframe, and stepped out into the morning light.

The day was already promising to be bright and warm, and he fastened the staff onto his back and headed into the woods they had fled from last night.

Okay, so he and Hawke would have always gone their separate ways this morning, but could he trust Fenris with her?

The image of her; broken, beaten, and bleeding on that torturer's table would haunt him forever. And Fenris had let that happen. Fenris who, up until a moon ago, he had thought dead by Hawke's hand at The Gallows. Anders felt the pulse of power and blinding righteous anger that accompanied Vengeance, and curled his hands into fists so hard that blood dripped from the skin of his palms. He stopped walking to try and control his breathing, and he leant back against a tall pine tree and closed his eyes.

Yet Hawke had defended the elf, and he had seen last night what he had suspected for years. She was in love with him.

Anders sank to his knees and put his head in his hands as an anguished groan escaped his lips.

She was in love with _him_.

That she had slept with Fenris wasn't the issue. Anders and Hawke had always had a fairly open relationship when it came to sex. But there had been something else, something in the way they had lain together when he returned, something in the way they looked at each other... The pain that gripped Anders' chest now was for the realisation that Hawke had never been his in the way he had been hers, heart and soul.

'Blight take me...' he said through his fingers.

Here was one of the most formidable and infamous mages of the age, crying in the woods over a woman. Anders laughed miserably at himself. Taking his hands from his face he frowned at the small red crescents on his palms. With barely a flicker of a thought, the wounds flashed blue and closed.

Gathering his wits he pushed himself back to his feet and continued to pick his way through the woods, pausing every now and then to double-check the directions that had been carved in archaic runes on some of the trees.

xxx

About an hour later Anders had arrived at the outskirts of the small logging village of Firgenholt, and made his way to an unassuming row of cottages that representatives from The Collective had commandeered as an outpost. Most of the buildings had been constructed with logs of wood cut solely from the surrounding pine forests that provided the small community its chief source of income, and now he could see them in daylight, Anders was reminded of the spiced ginger-biscuit houses his mother would make for First Day feasts during his childhood, in happier times.

He tapped out a discrete code, and waited for the door of the middle cottage to be pulled open before ducking inside. The interior of the cottage had been pared back, all unnecessary furniture piled in a spare room at the back. The main room was given over to racks of supplies, armor, and weapons, with a large pine dining table strewn with maps and letters of coded correspondence. Two men dressed in mage's robes were talking quietly while studying a map.

'Anders!' A third man, tall and lean with short black hair pulled him into a firm embrace.

'Ti, it is good to see you,' said Anders.

Tibalt Tsaldaris leaned back and regarded him with a frown. 'You have blood on your face, is everything okay?' he asked.

Anders stepped away and waved a hand dismissively. 'It's nothing.'

A small, wiry old elf walked over to the pair from the kitchen, wiping her gnarled hands on a rag. 'Let me see.'

'Really, it's nothing-' Anders was gripped by the nipple by the tiny woman and he yelped as he was pulled down to her eye level. 'Dorneth, my dear, I love you, but you have got to stop-'

'Stubborn boy,' she muttered and spat on the rag before wiping it roughly over the dried blood on his face.

Tibalt had turned his back but the shaking of his body beneath his blood red robes belied his laughter at Ander's treatment by the elven herbsmith.

When she was satisfied that he looked presentable, Dorneth released her iron grip on his chest and stalked back to the kitchen. Rubbing the tender skin with one hand, Anders aimed a swipe at the back of Tibalt's head with the other. Dodging the blow with his uncanny prescience, his friend and right-hand man turned and wiped the corner of his eye.

'Shut up.'

'I shall not breathe a word. It would not do for our foes to hear how our fearless leader is mercilessly mothered by the oldest elf in Thedas,' said Tibalt. His smile faded. 'In seriousness now, is it true that you orchestrated a rescue for Hawke without support last night? You knew the plan was to assemble here this morning and make our way there tonight.'

'I had no choice. If you had seen what they had put her through... I had to get her out.' Anders felt his stomach clench again at the memory.

'It was reckless to endanger yourself in such a way.'

With a flash of anger, Anders grabbed his friend by the shoulders. 'Are you telling me that you wouldn't have done the same thing, if it was Mari-Ann they had there and not Hawke?'

Tibalt gazed back steadily with his peculiar eyes. Clear blue, but gradually fading towards deepest violet with a ring of red around the pupil. 'My death would not have the impact that yours would on the war. You are the symbol of hope and rebellion to hundreds of your brothers and sisters. We need you to stay alive.'

Dropping his hands, Anders shook his head. 'Ah, the greater cause crap. I'm sorry, Ti, but I shouldn't matter so much. I don't deserve it,' he rubbed a hand across his eyes. 'Is there somewhere I can grab a quick nap? I didn't get much in the way of sleep last night.'

'Of course, through that door.' Tibalt indicated a bedroom to the left. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else, but changed his mind and instead strode into the kitchen.

Anders pushed open the door and threw himself onto the nearest bed. With an arm across his eyes, he tried to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

'Greetings, would you kindly point me in the direction of this farm's owner?' Hawke called over the fence. The young farmhand looked up at her and his eyes widened. Wiping an arm across his brow, he pointed to the farmhouse.

'The owner, his name is Kella, he's in the house, miss- er, serah,' he said.

'My name is Hawke. Would you mind informing Kella he has some visitors who are seeking board for the night?'

The young man hastily made his way to the large wooden building. The farm was large and looked prosperous. The pine trees that were so prolific in this area had been cleared for acres around, and tall green fronds of wheat bobbed in the fields that surrounded the buildings.

'Of course, tell them your name. We wouldn't want any doubt about our identities would we?' said Fenris, looking around warily.

'Right, because his description of a white-haired, tattooed elf in full pointy armor accompanied by a devastatingly beautiful woman armed with twin blades wouldn't give the game away?' hissed Hawke. 'Remember, this is the plan.'

'I wish you would reconsider, let yourself recover properly first-'

'Too late,' said Hawke. She smiled and waved to the stocky man who now approached the gate where they stood. Kella was tall and broad, but the recent comfort of owning his farm rather than sweating in the fields was shown in the beginnings of a soft belly. He scratched at his dark brown beard as he opened the gate and gestured them through.

'Good day, I'm Kella. So, you're wanting lodgings for the night?' he asked.

Hawke glanced at Fenris. He had that look on his face. She knew he would leave her to do all the talking.

'Yes, please. If we're not imposing. We would be fine in a barn, or-'

'We have space in the barn,' Kella paused. 'Is it just the two of you?'

'Just us,' replied Hawke, as she read the expression that flickered briefly across Kella's face. 'How much will we owe you?' she asked.

'Oh no, no. Don't you worry about that. Safer than you staying in the woods, yes?' he said with a smile that made Hawke's fist itch. 'I'll show you around.'

Hawke and Fenris followed him across to a far side of the farm to a large barn, where a space had been set aside under the hayloft at the rear of the building to accommodate travellers. Instead of letting the empty space go to waste while waiting for the new harvests, farmers would often set up guest quarters in their outbuildings to rent for a small fee through the early summer months.

There were four cots with simple straw mattresses, as well as a table with four chairs, and a small circular fire pit complete with an iron cooking trestle. 'Mind you keep the flames low enough to step o'er,' Kella had said, unnecessarily adding how flammable a wooden barn could be.

Hawke had nodded as she scanned the interior of the barn and thanked the farmer politely when he left. She stepped close to Fenris.

'He was expecting Anders to be with us, but he's happy he'll still get paid enough for us two. Greedy bastard didn't even consider that Anders might be watching from the woods, ready to rain down gruesome fiery death on an ambush.'

'A lust for gold does indeed make a man foolish,' Fenris met her eyes. 'As a lust for revenge can make a woman-'

'I'd be careful how you finish that sentence, especially if you're fond of not being punched in the face.' Hawke checked and tightened the leather fastenings at her wrists and shoulders but stopped when his strong hands closed over hers.

'I don't think I need to. You do that when you're nervous,' he said quietly.

Her hands shot out and Fenris stumbled backwards a step. 'Fuck you. Nervous? I'm in a killing mood, it's just a shame they probably won't attack until after dark. Maker, do you even know me at all?'

She had to look away from the hurt that flashed in his eyes. Because she was nervous, just a bit.

xxx

Kella's large wife, Ysine, brought water and a basket of bread, cheese, and dried beef into the barn for Hawke and her 'manservant'. Hawke had accepted graciously, somehow managing to keep a straight face until the rather bovine woman had left.

'Manservant! How many times is that now? Oh, dear Maker...' Hawke's words dissolved into laughter.

'Well, she was particularly foul,' said Fenris, with just a glimmer of amusement from the opposite side of the table.

Hiccuping, Hawke returned to sharpening her daggers on the whetstone Anders had considerately added to her pack that morning. At the thought of the blonde mage, her mood sobered again.

She watched as Fenris carefully re-strung the cords on the shoulder scabbard that held the massive greatsword on his back. It had been coming loose since the morning. He must have felt her watching and looked up, meeting her gaze with those intense green eyes. There was so much pain there, but such strength too. Hawke felt her heart beat faster. She had always been fond of Anders, but he had never made her feel like this. The man opposite could make her forget everything with just one look, which was proved as her hand slipped and the blade cut along her thumb.

'Shit,' she sucked at the shallow cut.

'Maybe you should pay more attention to what you are doing,' said Fenris, who then went back to his work. Wait, was that a smirk?

'This is your fault, you sexy little bastard,' said Hawke, holding out her hand. A drop of blood landed on the table.

'Have I ever told you, you have the most curious way of complimenting someone?' asked Fenris, 'One could find it offensive,' he added, with a definite smirk.

'You're very uppity for a manservant,' she said with a grin. Hawke slid her uninjured hand across the table to take his, rubbing her thumb between two white lines of lyrium on his palm. 'I'm sorry, for what I said earlier. You were right, I am maybe just a tiny bit nervous. I don't know how many may come for us tonight, or if I'm ready but-'

'But this is something you need to do. To prove that Sebastian didn't break you. Even though I don't like it, I do understand,' said Fenris.

Hawke pushed herself up and strode around the table to drag the elf from his chair. She pressed her lips to his and pulled his hard body to hers, trying to get as close as she could despite their layers of armor. She felt his tongue hot against her lips and opened her mouth in response, stealing his breath as she was pushed backwards onto the table, knocking his scabbard onto the hard floor with a clang. The pair broke apart at the noise, flushed. Hawke rested her forehead against his. 'I know I've been trying to push you away all day. That's the opposite of what I want,' she said.

'I will never leave you again. I swear I will always be by your side or at your back. Until death, Hawke.' Fenris kissed her again, then moved to place light kisses on the side of her neck. Hawke hissed when she felt his teeth bite just under her ear, and arched her body against his.

'Wait, stop it, you seductive minx,' she gasped, trying to stand. 'What if we get attacked in the middle of getting naked? _That's_ not a good plan.'

He laughed softly against her ear, the deep chuckle creating goosebumps down that side of her body, and backed away. Hawke's eyes flicked to his sword laid on one of the beds and she threw him a challenging look, reaching for her daggers.

Fenris raised an eyebrow. 'You would rather fight instead?'

'I would rather throw you on the floor and tear off that armor with my teeth, but I need the sparring practice,' said Hawke. Steel flashed as the daggers spun in her hands and she rolled her shoulders. 'It's been so long since I killed anyone, my arms are getting flabby.'

Fenris dived across the bed as she lunged, and brought his sword up to meet her blades with a clash of metal.

xxx

'Sparring practice,' Fenris muttered, taking his hand from the cut above his eye. Blood had run down his face, and coloured the ends of his white hair where it touched his forehead.

'Don't pout,' said Hawke, as she tilted his head up and wiped over his face with a rag. 'At least I haven't forgotten how to dance.'

His other hand rested on her hip. 'It's getting dark outside.'

'I know,' Hawke replied quietly. The cut wasn't deep, and the bleeding had already stopped. She bent her head to place a chaste kiss on his lips before stepping away. 'I'll take first watch tonight, no arguments. A crushing defeat such as the one you just suffered needs to be meditated upon, but we should eat first.'

After their plain but substantial meal, Hawke had felt another twinge of concern and regret for Anders when Fenris had brought out the dog-eared deck of cards the mage had placed in his pack. The couple played several hands of wicked grace as the night settled around them. She pulled her chair closer to the fire as the temperature dropped and a chill wind whirled around the barn, disturbing the dwindling pile of 'winnings' on her lap - pieces of straw. As she lost again, she cursed and paced to the door.

'Are you sure you want to take first watch?' Fenris had followed her.

'There's no chance I'd get any sleep, I can barely sit still. That's the only reason you kept beating me, by the way,' she whispered back.

'Of course, _amasiuncala_,' said Fenris. He turned and walked to the back of the barn. Hawke smiled to herself, she had heard him moan that word last night - when pressed he had revealed it meant something like 'loved one'. She took up position next to the door, pushing it almost shut, and waited.

xxx

'Shit.' Hawke looked up to the beams supporting the roof and quickly scrambled up. As far as she could tell, there were at least four men approaching the barn. Catching her balance on the narrow beam with one hand, she shot a look at Fenris asleep at the rear of the building. Heart hammering in her chest, she decided to use the sleeping elf as bait.

Forcing her eyes closed, Hawke used her breathing to slow her heart rate, to focus on only this moment as she slowly slid her blades from the dual harness on her back.

The door creaked as it was pushed slowly, and Hawke's eyes snapped open as she stood perfectly still, until the first man passed through the darkness below. Two more followed, side by side, and she dropped silently, like a sigh of death, daggers angled to strike at the back of their necks. The impact shuddered through her arms so she let go as she landed to avoid breaking her collarbone and rolled to one knee. The two men were killed instantly and fell on their faces in the straw.

The lead man whirled as Hawke launched herself forward, pulling a spare knife from her boot and burying the iron blade in the soft base of his throat. They crashed to the floor, the man choking and gurgling through the frothy blood that bubbled from his mouth and spilled around her knife. Hawke twisted the knife free, and kicked the sword that had fallen from his hand into a dark corner as he writhed. Fenris was already at her side as she looked for the fourth would-be assassin, but realised he was nowhere to be seen.

'Outside,' said Hawke, moving to pull the daggers from the backs of the dead men. Fenris ran ahead and ducked out into the night, while Hawke had to put her foot on one of the bodies to wrench the blade free. She heard metal kiss metal and flew through the door into the dark outside, flipping the daggers to a reverse grip as she ran.

Fenris had engaged the man waiting as look-out, a great bear of a man armed with a heavy red-steel warhammer. As the elf rolled away from a massive swing, Hawke spun and almost severed the man's arm at the elbow. He bellowed in pain and dropped the hammer, but surprised her by pulling a sword from his belt with the other hand and whipping it towards her head. Hawke jumped backwards as the sword sliced through the air mere inches from her face, before Fenris brought his sword down through the bear man's shoulder, detaching his entire arm at the joint.

Hawke stepped warily around the bleeding man, suppressing the urge to make the 'he's armless' joke. Too obvious.

Somehow, the man was still standing. 'Filthy mage-fuckers, Prince Vael will kill you all,' he growled.

'Speaking of the bastard, where is Sebastian?' asked Hawke, prodding bear man in the chest with a blade.

He spat at her. 'He has eyes everywhere, he will find you again, and-'

'That's not what I asked. I want a location. Fenris, fist this ugly fucker,' she said, prodding him again.

Fenris pinched the bridge of his nose. 'I wish you wouldn't call it that.'

Hawke giggled before howling with dismay as the bear man threw himself onto her dagger. He caught it full in the throat before she could pull her arm away.

'Maker, damn it all!' she cried, as the huge wounded man collapsed on her and died. Hawke was pinned by the vast, bleeding corpse. Her view of the stars was blocked by Fenris as he looked down at her, a half-smile twisting his lips. 'Can I get a little help here?' she asked him.

Fenris hunkered down by her head. 'Please?'

'Oh, now you're making me beg. Fuck you, I'll do it myself.' Hawke wriggled and struggled and failed to move the body. The smell was horrific, as the stench of a man who spent months without washing mixed with the metallic tang of blood.

'I was not making you beg, merely asking you to be polite. Stubborn little Hawke,' said Fenris. He tapped her nose then rose and walked away.

'Wait, please? Please!' she shouted after him. Lying still, she screamed as she heard the dead man's bowels let go. 'Fenris, I need you, please! Oh Maker, why?'

Suddenly, she was freed and she scrambled away and to her feet. Wiping the blood from her leather armor, she aimed a kick at the corpse but was pulled roughly back and turned to face Fenris.

'Don't disrespect the dead,' he said quietly.

'When they nearly shit on me, they don't deserve respect,' she said hotly, but on noticing his expression, she relented. 'Is it okay if I still rob him though?'


	4. Chapter 4

Anders woke with a start. Sounds of a commotion in the main room dragged him from the bed and he pulled open the door.

Two mages from The Collective, Hildene and Sam, were tying a bald headed man to a chair. The man was wearing mis-matched armor - ill-fitting pieces of iron plate fastened over well-worn boiled leather. His face was covered in black tattooed swirls and blood ran from a cut on his lip. As he was tied down, the man swore and spat his blood at the mages. He narrowed his eyes when he spotted Anders.

'You.'

Anders made his way over to Tibalt, who was watching the captive with an air of detached amusement. 'What's going on?'

'One of Vael's followers. It would seem that our young Prince of Starkhaven is not too particular about the intellectual capacity of the mercenaries he has acquired. We found this man beating an elf in the town square, accusing him of being Fenris.' Tibalt raised an eyebrow. 'The elf in question had brown hair and a conspicuous lack of lyrium-imbued tattoos.'

'Knife-ears all look the same,' the bald man sneered at Dorneth, who had stepped out of the kitchen. With a roll of her eyes, the old elf returned to her potions station.

Hildene Borchard approached Anders. Tall, slim and blonde, she had an ethereal beauty. Her dark blue velvet robes matched the colour of her eyes and small flakes of quartz glittered over her shoulders. 'Do you want to start by burning this son of a whore?' she asked.

'Start what? Ti, why is this man here and still breathing?' Anders asked the dark-haired mage.

Tibalt turned to him. 'We are going to repay the tender treatment shown to Hawke, of course. While you were sleeping I received word that the mansion Vael was using is now abandoned, so I thought you would be keen to find out his new whereabouts.'

'How, by torturing him? You know how hard I've worked to control that part of me. Don't tempt me like this.'

The bald merc laughed horribly. 'Afraid to get your hands dirty, mage? You should have heard the way your little slut moaned when we took her again and again on that table.'

'They raped her?' There was ice in Tibalt's voice.

'He's lying. I felt everything when I healed her, and that was one thing they didn't do. He just wants me to kill him, so he can justify his hatred. He's scared.'

Tibalt gave a small chuckle as he stepped in front of the captive. 'Oh, he doesn't yet know real fear,' he said.

Anders spread his hands. 'I can't be a part of this.'

'This is for Hawke, brother.' The corners of the room seemed to grow darker as Tibalt concentrated on the bald man, and Hildene shivered next to Anders despite the summer's warmth. The man stared up with wide eyes and began to moan quietly.

'No, no, no...'

Tibalt smiled and raised a finger to his lips. Quiet and introspective as a child, he had discovered a talent for entropy early in his training at The Gallows in Kirkwall. He had honed his ability to tap into the immense power of the fade to manipulate fear, rage, and desire in his enemies until he surpassed even the senior enchanter, Si' Lan, and there was a joke among The Collective that if demons dreamed, Tibalt Tsaldaris would chase _them_ through the fade until the monsters woke screaming.

The bald mercenary tied to the chair in front of him would not have the luxury of waking from his terror, however.

Anders shook his head as the man screamed. He could feel the pulse behind his eyes as he longed to add physical pain to his suffering, to avenge the damage caused to Hawke.

_Maker damn you, Hawke. Why did you let them keep hurting you? Was it love, or just loyalty?_

The room spun as he felt his control slipping. Hildene took his arm and led him through the kitchen to Dorneth, and he sat down heavily against the wall. Dorneth tutted as she wiped her hands, then passed him a small clay cup. She poured a thin red fluid into it and nodded.

'Drink that, boy.'

'_Boy? You will address me with-_' his words thundered with Vengeance's deep tone, but they were cut off as Hildene grabbed the cup and forced the bitter liquid down his throat. Anders coughed. He felt a sudden calmness wash through him as Vengeance receded. Even the keening wail of the tortured man in the other room didn't move him.

'By Andraste's lovely bosom, what was that?' he asked Dorneth.

'Spirit draught. The balm doesn't work quickly enough on you.' She was watching his face with her storm grey eyes. 'First time it's been tested too. Just you keep it away from Tibalt.'

'You're amazing,' he said. Looking to Hildene, he smiled. 'And you, you're so beautiful. You look like my mother...'

Hildene stood up. 'It seems a bit potent, Dor'. I think I'd rather deal with Vengeance than this simpering idiot.'

'Hey, I'm still here.' Anders waved, then watched his hand as it flowed through the air, it's aura trailing a rainbow of colours. The colours wound together and turned white, until a bright rope was coiled around his wrist. He giggled.

'Hmm.' Dorneth made a note in her ancient recipe book as Anders closed his eyes.

xxx

He was being shaken.

'Just give him a slap.' Hildene's voice.

'Wait, no slapping. I'm okay,' said Anders as he blinked. Tibalt's blue and purple eyes were staring into his. His friend stepped back and held out his hand. Anders let himself be pulled back to his feet and rubbed his face. 'How long was I out?'

Parts of his dream flickered back through his mind; a sunlight dappled meadow, warm skin under his lips, Hawke's infectious laugh, his screams as her skin burst and the twisted face of an abomination replaced that of his love…

Tibalt was watching him with concern. 'About an hour, are you sure you're alright? Dorneth said she gave you something?'

'Never you mind that. You should be preparing, yes?' said Dorneth, as she fixed Anders with a look that left no room for disagreement.

'Preparing for what? Maker's breath, all day I've felt like I'm one step behind everyone else,' said Anders.

Tibalt gave a small, hard smile. 'We're going hunting.' When Anders frowned, he continued, 'Our bald friend gave me a location for Vael. Eventually. Would you have guessed his nightmare involved an invasive aubergine?' he said and chuckled.

'Wait, what? No, no, I really don't want to know,' said Anders. He felt his anger surge again. 'But, now you want to go after Sebastian? I thought you said that after we rescued Hawke it would be a waste of time to try and kill him and his men. Your exact words were - _an inefficient deployment of valuable war assets._' Anders mimicked his friend's cultured accent.

'I admit, I may have underestimated his fervour in tracking you down, and that of his followers. I have re-evaluated the situation, and I now feel it is pertinent to find and remove the threat he poses to our people out in the field.' Tibalt placed a hand on Anders' arm. 'I… saw what they did to Hawke in that man's mind. I want to watch as Sebastian Vael comes face-to-face with his greatest nightmare.'

Anders pulled Tibalt into an embrace. 'Thank you, brother. This means a great deal to me.' He stepped back. 'Is anyone else joining us?'

Hildene stepped forwards. 'I will, if you don't mind me interrupting your touching displays of manly love?' she said. 'Timas wants to come too.'

Anders nodded. Hildene Borchard was skilled in primal magic, commanding the power of storms and earth. She was direct and forthright, and he valued her ability to cut through to the heart of a problem. That she was also from The Anderfels had helped them bond since he left Kirkwall, and he trusted her as much as he did Tibalt.

A non-mage, Timas was a Nevvaran sellsword who had been hired by The Collective ten years ago. Having married a mage and fathered a mage child, he was now one of The Collective's most fierce protectors. As a warrior, he fought with a shortsword and shield, and Anders was more than happy to have the stalwart defender as a member of his party.

'What about Mari-Ann?' Anders asked Tibalt.

'We… thought it would be a good idea to spend some time apart. She will be staying here, for now,' said Tibalt. He looked away.

_So it would seem we are both bleeding from a broken heart_, thought Anders.

As Anders and Tibalt started to gather supplies, Hildene went to find Timas. Tibalt explained that Sebastian was heading to a small town in the mountains to the west, called Dunlic. They would head out at first light.

Anders had smiled grimly. Vengeance would be satisfied.


End file.
